Temptation
by cannibalization
Summary: When a young, paranoid girl falls in love with the Joker without realizing who he is, chaos is sure to follow. But of course, the Joker is an "agent of chaos".
1. Sight

I didn't even know the name of the club we were sitting in. I didn't like the uncertainty that came with that. What kind of reputation did this place have? Would people slip drugs into my drink? Would I be hauled to off to a back room to have God knows what done with me? Sheela kept telling me I was overreacting, as always. I guess I was. It didn't look that bad. Sure, it had a few strange looking characters lurking in the corners, but what place in Gotham City didn't? I was fine. Nothing had happened yet, it probably wasn't going to.

I tried to clear my mind of all things negative as I took a drink of whatever concoction Sheela decided to get me. It was a bit too strong for my liking, but I'm guessing that was her plan. Get me drunk enough to stumble into some guy that might make me happy. She didn't seem to quite understand that I couldn't see myself ending up with someone that way. I always pictured something less alcohol related, a grocery store, a friend's party, the normal things.

"Delilah, if you don't get out of your head right now I will slap you upside the face."

Sheela found it necessary to use my fear of violence against me. I looked at her for the first time since we walked into the club. Under this light, she looked completely trashy. She had a thing for bright blue glitter eyeshadow. It didn't bother me until now. Control, Delilah, control. Don't get annoyed now. Stay calm. "Well you weren't talking, what would you rather me do?"

At this she frowned. Sheela was never fond of me talking back. "I'd rather you go and find a man to complete your life," she sighed, flicking a piece of blonde hair out of her eyes, "Honestly Delilah, you can't tell me there's not at least _one_ guy in this club that you don't think is cute."

I glanced around quickly. Not a one. "Yes, I honestly could say that," I said, not willing to give in, "Plus, I bet if I did find a guy I thought was cute, he'd be with a girl, either that or he'd end up being a complete jackass."

The look on her face seemed to be looking for sympathy, which I wouldn't give her. She grabbed my arm, dragging me towards the bar. "I'll find you a guy, or, so help me God, I'll kill someone," she grumbled. She and I weaved through the crowd of dancing people for a good three minutes before she pushed me into a chair. I looked up at her, helpless. Damn Sheela and her missions. "You're staying here for as long as it takes you to have a real conversation with a man." And with that, she was gone.

I raised my hand, ready to stop her, but didn't go through with it. I wouldn't be able to stop her anyway. I swiveled my chair around to face the bar in defeat, glancing to my right. An older looking man with a buzz cut had his back to me, talking to a scantily clad girl. I sighed in irritation, looking to the left. The first thing that caught my eye was the purple coat he was wearing. It was in awful condition, but still attractive. When I looked to his face, he looked at me. That's when I forgot how to breathe. I didn't notice the scars, or even the remnents of makeup around his hairline, all I saw was his eyes. Even then I knew they would haunt me for the rest of my life.

**AN: Short, yes. But it's an introduction more than anything. This was spur of the moment, not to mention my first story I've decided to put on here. Review with your thoughts, please. :)**


	2. Chills

By this point the man was smirking at me. I hadn't said a word, just stared at him with as much emotion on my face as a goldfish. God, he probably thought I was utterly insane. Thanks Sheela, great help you gave me here, I'm sure this guy is just going to be falling all over me now. He must be astonished by my eloquent way of speaking and dazzling good looks. Stop staring, Delilah, it's not nice to stare. Stop staring, come on, you can do it. No, I can't. God, those eyes are gorgeous.

"Hi."

Oh my god, his voice. If I was at all a sensual person I would probably be crawling all over him by now. Just that one word sent shivers down my spine. Okay, okay, get out of your mind now. Say something, smile.

I grinned at him, and let out a small 'hello' that he probably couldn't hear beneath the pounding music. Great, now I couldn't stop smiling. He definitely thought I was crazy, his smirk widened into a grin. That's when I noticed the scars, Glasgow Smile all the way. They were very noticeable, but didn't take away any of his beauty. They were obviously old, and whoever had stitched the wounds did an awful job. Curious as I was, I knew better than to stare at someone's scars. I looked back at his eyes. I had to say something more, get over this feeling. After a few seconds of trying to formulate a proper sentence, I said "I'm Delilah Pratz."

He smile grew - that was so damn alluring - as he opened his mouth to speak. "You can call me J," he said, drawing out the vowel sounds. For whatever reason, it didn't seem like he was saying 'Jay'. I automatically regretted using both my first name and last when he only gave me a simple letter. I had already embarrassed myself in front of the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He looked at the bartender, then back at me. "I hope you don't think that I will buy you a drink, you'll have to do that for yourself," he drawled, still grinning at me.

I blinked, before realizing that most women probably would expect this of a man. I mumbled an 'oh', before going straight into a somewhat reasonable explanation. "No, no, I don't expect that. I'm not really much of a drinker anyway," I said gently, looking towards the bar again. His gaze was intense, I had to look away.

At this he let out a laugh. No, laugh wasn't the right word, giggle. If his voice alone sent shivers down my spine, his giggle made me nearly jump out of my seat. It was completely strange, and yet so compelling. I looked back towards him, noting the twinkle in his eyes. "Then why... were you drinking some sort of, ah, fruity drink with your friend over there?" he asked, gesturing towards the direction I had came from. I gasped.

He noticed me and Sheela? There's no way he could have seen us from all the way over here, so he must have been closer. How close? Would he have overheard our conversation? Oh God, that would be embarrassing. If not, how do I explain the drink? Oh, y'know, my friend figures I need to be more knowledgeable about men and their ways, so she tries to set me up on dates and sends me of to find guys to hopefully have sex with so I won't be a virgin when I turn thirty in four years? How had I not noticed him? I quickly tried to come up with an excuse, before settling on one. "Well, it was a hard week at work, and my friend thought I should relax."

All the while, J was giggling. He knew, he so knew. He overheard us, he was near us. He was just a speedy little bastard and made his way over to the bar before we did. I could feel the heat rising to my face as he leaned on arm on the bar, leaning closer to me. He exhaled shakily, still smiling like there was no tomorrow. He looked me directly in the eyes, that twinkle of amusement still there, and said "You really need to come up with some better excuses."

Shit. Caught. That was it, he was going to leave now. I was never going to see him again, stupid Delilah. Idiot, just tell the truth next time. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

He didn't leave though. If anything, he moved closer to me. "It was obvious you didn't want the alcohol," he said, only loud enough for me to hear. The way he said alcohol made my body feel weak. "Your friend bought you it, and you took it out of the, uh, goodness of your soul." He giggled at this, leaning forward so that his forehead bumped against mine. I decided that he must be drunk, the way he was grinning and giggling. Not to mention the fact that no man had ever been this close to me before. Suddenly, just as I got comfortable with the position, he drew back and stood up.

"I'll see you around," he said, backing up with a smile on his face.

I reached out, touching his arm slightly in an attempt to get him to stay. It didn't work. "How will you do that though?" I questioned, still unsure of why he was suddenly in such a rush.

He simply smiled, staring at me as he walked backwards towards the exit. I sighed, might as well go tell Sheela. J certainly wasn't going to escape my mind tonight.


	3. Theories

**AN: First off I'd like to thank anyone who has read this, reviewed, or anything of the like. You inspire me. Secondly, I'd like to say that I've decided to take a turn that I wasn't expecting in this story. **__**I was trying to figure out what to do for this chapter, and just started writing. This is what came out. Chapters will start getting longer.**

Sheela and I were sitting on my bed three hours and sixteen minutes after J left the club. After explaining that I had a conversation with someone of the opposite sex, I was immediately dragged off to her car. The entire drive home she was giddy, wanting me to both tell her everything and wait until we got to my house. Still in a confused state about J, I just sat quietly, listening for the seventh time to her most recent mix CD. After being pulled into my house, through hallways and finally into my room, she sat me on the bed and told me to tell her every detail. I did. Now I was stuck with Sheela staring at me like I was completely out of my mind.

"J," she said in irritation, "That's all he gave you for a name? Christ, Delilah, and you gave him your _full name_? You're the one who worries about people grabbing you off the street and sending you away to some country where prostitution is legal! This guy could be a pedophile!"

"Pedophiles often don't leave their victims staring after them helplessly, do they? No." I retorted, slightly agitated. It's not like she helped me at all, just shoved me in the chair. "Besides, if he was a pedophile I most likely would've sensed it, don't you think? I mean, I could tell when there wasn't anything good about Joseph, and he seemed like the perfect man, remember?" I saw Sheela's face fall, she obviously remembered, he was her latest boyfriend, and latest disappointment. I sighed, "I'm sorry, Sheela. I just. . . There's something about this man that really draws me to him."

She snorted, "What, love at first sight, Delilah?" I could tell she was angry with me for even bringing Joseph up, but that was her own fault. I just had to get under control again. Come on, Delilah, don't let that comment get to you. She's just protecting you, come on.

"No, Sheela, it's not. It's just. . . something," I murmured, lowering my head slightly. I didn't even know what I felt, but I knew it wasn't love. Love is something that comes with time. But God, the way he could make me shake with just a few words. . .

"Sorry," she said, looking out the window, "I just don't want you getting hurt."

I sighed. I knew that. I really needed to get under control. Just think about.. Something. Oh shit, the scars.

"He had a Glasgow Smile," I blurted out. Sheela was used to me doing this, she knew how scatter-brained I was.

She raised an eyebrow at me, "I have no idea what that means."

"Scars from the sides of his mouth up into a smile. Y'know, like this," I explained, indicating with my hands as to where the scars were.

Now both eyebrows were raised. Why didn't I shut up. Why. "And you're trying to tell me there's nothing wrong with this guy?"

"They could've come from anything! Gangs, random people on the street--"

"Yeah, or he could've done it himself or done something to earn it!"

"Sheela, God, can you give anyone a chance?"

"I do, when they prove themselves worthy of one! Delilah, I really don't want you getting hurt, and from what you've told me you have no reason to believe he wouldn't hurt you."

Unfortunately I knew that she was right about that, but at the same time I had no reason to believe he would hurt me. I didn't really want to deal with Sheela right now, I was tired. "I know, Sheela. . . I need to some sleep to think this over, though."

As though the idea had suddenly dawned on her, she began nodding enthusiastically, "Oh, oh, okay. Well, call me tomorrow, alright?"  
I nodded, waving my hand at her dismissively. She walked out of my bedroom, looking back once before walking down the hall. Once I heard my door close, I got up and walked into the bathroom. At this point I began to inspect my hair. It was as red as always, just a mess of curls atop my head. I sighed, running my hands through the tangles in annoyance. Of course, I end up actually talking to someone like J and my hair looks like it's been knotted and set on fire.

I turned away from the mirror to turn on the shower when an arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me into a strong frame. I could only let out a squeak before a gloved hand was put firmly over my mouth. "Shh shh shh, wouldn't want to attract the neighbours..."

Shit. I knew that voice. How could I forget that voice. Sheela was right. She was so right. And now I was going to be...

J began to pull me backwards out of the bathroom, and I just closed my eyes. He was saying something, but I didn't hear it. I had to block it out. God, not again.


	4. Reminders

**AN: I know I promised longer chapters, but this one just seemed to end here. The next one will be longer, even if it kills me. Thank you all for reading, reviewing, and the like. :)**

An hour later I was sitting on a wooden chair in the dark, unable to move. I had been there for about half an hour, and I had only just began to stop hyperventilate five minutes prior to being tied to the chair. I only knew how long I had been there because there was a glow-in-the-dark clock on the wall. It was currently 2:55 a.m. J said he would be back at 3. I expected him to be late, but my guess was proven wrong as he walked through the door.

There was no rattling of keys, no footsteps down the hall, nothing until J kicked the door open with his foot. I would've jumped out of my seat, if I wasn't tied to said chair with more ropes than I could count. He grinned, reached out to his left and flicked on the lights. Damn, that was bright. I closed my eyes for a moment, before opening my eyes little by little. The room was pure white, with nothing on walls at all. No windows, just a single door and light. I shivered, not exactly thrilled with what I was seeing. I closed my eyes again, breathing out heavily. I could hear his shoes squeaking on the floor as he walked towards me. That sound was really getting to me. Stop, Delilah. Don't get annoyed now. I opened one eye.

He was crouched down so that his face was level with mine. I hated how even in this situation he still looked absolutely gorgeous. He was grinning at me, again, eyes dark with emotion I couldn't quite place. "So," he said, "Is the chair comfortable enough for you?" He decided to drag out the words long enough to make me feel _very_ uncomfortable. I didn't say a word, I just looked down.

He grabbed my chin and yanked my head up to face him again. "Either way, I'm not changing the, uh, circumstances." He smiled wider at this, tilting my head slightly to the left. I already knew what he would be looking at.

I had a faded scar along the right side of my neck. I normally tried to cover this, but I took off all my makeup when I got home with Sheela. Damn it.

"Well," he murmured, looking me directly in the eye, "What have we here?" I held his gaze, trying to ignore the feeling in my stomach when I did so. I saw his smile falter slightly, but only for a moment. He readjusted himself, reaching up a hand and putting it on the back of my neck just a bit too hard. Purple gloves. Huh. "You know, I'm not that fond of people ignoring me. So if I were you, I think I'd speak up," he nodded, moving my head in the same movement. He chuckled at this, leaning forward.

My first reaction was to jerk my head away. He growled, reaching up his left hand and grabbing the side of my face roughly. He tangled his right hand in my hair and pulled my face closer. I let out a shaky breath I didn't know I was holding as his smile broadened once again. "Now, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," he drawled, tightening his grip. I winced. I knew that I would have bruises from this. He giggled, tilting his head to the right. "Answering will probably help with you little, ah, predicament," he said, pronouncing each syllable slowly.

I started to shake, starting to keep track of my breathing so I wouldn't hyperventilate. He stared at me, untangling his hand from my hair and moving it to the side of my face. He pressed his thumb into the space between my jaw bone and esophagus with so much pressure that I wanted to yell out. I didn't. I just shut my eyes, scrunching up my face in pain. I could almost see his grin widen.

"Is your middle name Mara?" he muttered after a moment, his voice low. I could tell his body had tensed because of his grip on my face. I waited, not wanting to say a word. I didn't want to face him. Not now. "Look at me," he growled out, obviously unhappy with my decision to not say anything. I opened my eyes.

His eyes were fierce, but by now I knew better than not to look at him. "Yes," I breathed out, suddenly feeling sick. How in hell would he know that?

Something flashed across his face too fast for me to place, and then he stood up. He backed up three steps, and sat down. He was no in the center of the room, legs sprawled out in front of him, hands on the floor behind his back to support his body. As soon as I thought that smile had finally left, it returned. It grew, little by little until he began to chuckle. He moved one of his hands and put it over his face as his chuckle grew, and within the minute he was on his side, laying on the floor, laughing hysterically.

I sat in the wooden chair, staring at him. How could he have possibly known that.


	5. Fear

**AN: You all probably hate me with every fibre in your bodies. Truthfully, I completely forgot that I wrote this. When I remembered, I was in a complete slump. I still am. This is the best I can get out. I figured I owed it to you all, despite the fact that it won't be anything incredible. I apologize.**

**Also, this. . . I'm not quite sure where I'm going anymore. I know generally what is going to happen, but it's changed quite a bit. You may have noticed that this no longer really goes with my summary. Somewhere in the second chapter, something sparked and I completely changed what was going to happen. Now I'm stuck. I'm doing exams this week and the next, so I probably won't update any time then. After that, it's summer, and I promise I will update much more often during that.**

_Cold. Whatever I was laying on was ice cold. I felt a burning around my wrists, which were puled high above my head. A similar burning was around my ankles, which were stretched in the opposite direction. I tried moving my left hand down to my face, but it wouldn't budge, the burning only increased. I realized the burning was from rope tied around my hands and feet. What the hell, this was not where I was earlier. I opened my eyes._

_Pitch black. I couldn't see a damn thing, but I knew my eyes were open. Annoyance settled in as I realized I had been blindfolded. Like most people would at a time like this, I tried to scream. Ah, duct tape. Lovely stuff, isn't it? Especially when it's secured over your mouth. I struggled against my bonds to no prevail, but I kept trying anyway._

_I was more agitated than panicked at this point, furiously attempting to free my hands and feet. Obscenities came out as angry, muffled sounds. After about five minutes of this, a door to my left opened. I stopped, turning my head in that direction, when a voice, deep, unnerving, and raspy spoke, making me jump._

_"Ms Pratz. I see you're awake."_

_I didn't recognize that voice at all. That's when I began to panic, thrashing against my bonds yet again. The man chuckled, his footsteps sounding off the walls. I could hear water slosh as he stepped. "It won't do you any good to struggle, Delilah. You don't seem to realize the. . . Severity of this situation, darling."_

_He stopped walking as he reached me, and his breath hit my face. I turned my head, repulsed. He laughed, grabbing my face roughly and turning it back to face his. "It's a shame I had to blindfold you. You have the most unique eye colour. . ."_

_He ran his fingers down my neck, and trailed across my collar bone, causing me to shudder in disgust. _

_"You know, for the longest time I thought you eyes were black. Then, when I got close enough. . . I realized they were green. Deep, deep green. . ."_

_Close? I don't recognize his voice. I don't know him. Close. Goddamnit, he followed me? _

_I felt his hand over my bare stomach, making me realize why I was so cold. I had no clothing on._

_"I think that's when this all began, don't you?" His hand grabbed my hip. I could almost feel a bruise forming._

_I tried to yell at him, only to be blocked out by the duct tape. Bastard._

_"It's a shame I had to cover your mouth too," he murmured, his hand moving to the inside of my thigh, "I would have loved to hear you scream."_

I jolted awake. My heart was racing, hands trembling, my breathing heavy, and tears were streaming down my face. I sighed, lowering my head to look at the floor. They told me I'd get my memory back in the form of dreams. I just didn't expect it would be while I was being held captive.

My mind was buzzing. It'd been three years since then, and I could never remember. I was told that all my bad memories would come back first, being the most memorable, then the rest would come. Despite the fact that I doubted I'd be able to get any more information out of myself, I tried. That is, until my thoughts were interrupted as J strode through the door.

He grinned cheerfully, strolling over to me as though this were a completely normal arrangement. "Good morning," he greeted happily, placing his hands on his hips.

I inspected what he was wearing, which was the same as last night. Frowning slightly, I looked up to his face. He was still grinning at me, an almost playful expression on his face. "G'mornin'," I murmured back, watching him intently.

His brow furrowed, smile fading, as he turned around suddenly, striding purposefully back out of the room. I raised an eyebrow at where he would have still been standing, listening as I heard another door open. It was quiet for a few seconds before something was being dragged down the hallway. He reappeared in the doorway, hauling a chair behind him. He made it one step through before the chair collided with the side of the door. He frowned, turning around to pull it forcefully into the room. A piece of the door frame flew off, but he didn't notice. He dragged the chair across the room - damnit, that scraping was pissing me off - and placed it in front of me. He stepped back momentarily, staring at the chair, before walking back to it and sitting down.

He put his elbows on his knees, then his head in his hand, and stared at me. I stared back, uncertain what he was doing, and why. His eyes never left mine for what felt like an eternity. He looked away briefly, glancing towards the ceiling. "Y'know, you make a lot of noise in your sleep."

I gave him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

He looked back at me, laughing at my expression. "If that chair wasn't bolted to the floor, you would have fell over. You were trashing around and yelling like someone gouged your eyes out."

I sighed unhappily, looking down at the floor. "Just a nightmare."

He giggled, crossing and uncrossing his feet at the ankles. "Nightmares are the best kind of dreams, don't you think?"

I looked up at him curiously. I've never met anyone who actually _enjoys_ nightmares. I think he realized that I wanted a explanation, as he smiled at me, obviously happy to explain.

"Dreams are just fantasies, things that won't happen, completely. . . unrealistic. Nightmares show what you fear, things that you don't want to face but you'll have to anyways. Nightmares are much more . . ." he paused, leaning forward and tilting my head up, turning it to look at my scar, "interesting."

He dropped his hand, gripping onto my right knee too tightly. "So," he said, voice cracking, "What was your nightmare about?"

I stayed silent, staring at him, his words not processing in my head. He continued to smile at me, leaning a little closer. "Or maybe a better question would be," his voice dropped lower, his face darker, "What do you fear?"


End file.
